Specialists are attempting to distinguish the remaining parts which have been found as the loss of life rises.
A concealed specialist inclines down toward a dark plastic body sack, and delicately controls the legs of the man inside. "First we decide age, sex and length," he makes sense of.
"He's in the rottenness stage now, due to the water."
In an emergency clinic vehicle leave in the eastern Libyan city of Derna, the last subtleties of one of its numerous casualties are painstakingly checked and logged.
This is presently perhaps of the most essential work here, and one of the most ridiculously troubling. The man is unrecognizable in the wake of expenditure seven days in the ocean. His body washed shorewards that morning.
Master hands tenderly test, searching for distinguishing imprints and taking a DNA swab. That is significant, in the event that there's a family still alive to guarantee him.
In excess of 10,000 individuals remain authoritatively absent, as per figures from the UN's Office for the Co-Appointment of Philanthropic Issues.
The Red Sickle has been giving its own numbers.
The UN says the loss of life up to this point remains at about 11,300. The last complete remaining parts muddled - albeit the one thing that is sure is the sheer size of this fiasco.
Mohammed Miftah knows in his heart his family are among the people in question.
At the point when he went to find his sister and her significant other at their home after the floods, it had been washed away.
He's heard nothing from them since. He shows me a video he took as the downpour rose, earthy colored water pouring in through his front entryway.